


from ape to human to no one's angel

by sajere1



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bisexual Dean Winchester, Gen, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Queer Character, Queer Themes, ambiguously early season 4, reference to religious homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:28:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27921538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sajere1/pseuds/sajere1
Summary: “If I hadn’t done the whole demon deal,” he says, after a long moment of wetting his lips. “Was I still, y’know. Headed downstairs?”Castiel’s head slowly tilts, as if Dean’s question is an axis he is attempting to wrap himself around. “No,” he says, assured as always in his angelic confidence. “Are you worried about your hunting? Dean, be assured that your actions saved lives. Heaven considers – ““Not that,” Dean dismisses with a flap of his hand. He sets the beer bottle down with a thick slosh. “Man, if there’s one good thing I’ve put into this world, it’s cutting down those sons of bitches. Just – “ He hesitates, eyes sliding away from Cas’ face down to the table. His fingers curl around the cover of a leather journal, pulling it open and closed and open again, idly watching the way his fingers play on the page.Dean hates how stupid and small his voice sounds when he says, “So I’m not going to hell for liking dudes?”
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 9
Kudos: 163





	from ape to human to no one's angel

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Yes.” Castiel looks awkward and small in the motel room – like a caged animal, powerful, but contained.

Dean sighs. Tips his head back against the chair. Takes another swig of his beer. Considers, again, whether he wants to do this. They're alone - Dean suspects Cas is on official watch-the-human duty, and while he had fluttered uncertainly for a moment when Sam had been at the library, he hasn't actually left, so Dean suspects he's currently the slightly wilder card. He debates, again, the merits and detriments of taking advantage of that situation before deciding, _fuck it._ “If I hadn’t done the whole demon deal,” he says, after a long moment of wetting his lips. “Was I still, y’know. Headed downstairs?”

Castiel’s head slowly tilts, as if Dean’s question is an axis he is attempting to wrap himself around. “No,” he says, assured as always in his angelic confidence. “Are you worried about your hunting? Dean, be assured that your actions saved lives. Heaven considers – “

“Not that,” Dean dismisses with a flap of his hand. He sets the beer bottle down with a thick slosh. “Man, if there’s one good thing I’ve put into this world, it’s cutting down those sons of bitches. Just – “ He hesitates, eyes sliding away from Cas’ face down to the table. His fingers curl around the cover of a leather journal, pulling it open and closed and open again, idly watching the way his fingers play on the page.

Dean hates how stupid and small his voice sounds when he says, “So I’m not going to hell for liking dudes?”

 _“No,”_ Castiel says, with such speed and intent that there’s a weird moment where Dean feels comforted by the righteous fury Cas is clearly about to rain down on whoever said otherwise. “You would not be damned for – for love.”

Dean can’t restrain the mildly hysterical giggle-snort. “Think you’re missing one of the seven big sins, Cas,” he says.

Despite himself, his body unclenches. He hadn’t even realized he’d tensed up for this conversation, but the absence of it is like surfacing from the ocean. It shouldn’t – matter to him, that much, he thinks. He’s Heaven’s golden boy, at least for now. They may put him through some real shit, but he feels pretty confident they aren’t sending him back to the Pit, no matter what earthly sins he indulges in. And it’s not like he puts that much stock into these assholes as an ultimate moral authority, anyway. They think liking dudes should send you to hell, well, fuck ‘em.

But it does matter to him. It does. Put it down to being from a small town in the Midwest. Put it down to the butch trucker who paid for his hotel room when he was 16 and his latest stolen card wouldn’t go through, slipping him a copy of _Stone Butch Blues_ with a sly wink that he still keeps in the backseat of the Impala, and the idea that won’t leave his stupid brain, knowing Hell is real, that her kindness will be repaid with eternity on the rack. Put it down to good old-fashioned internalized biphobia – Dean’s a pro at that one. But as much as he doesn’t want to care about it, the relief – the knowing that these are not sins, that this is not wrong, on an objective, divine level – is palpable. Exhausting.

“Sex is not lust,” Castiel says. It’s weird, because he’s an angel, and as best as Dean tells he really can’t feel any of that shit, but there’s still a moment of – solidarity. The type of moment when Dean talks to some teen cashier with green hair about his ex-boyfriend, or when he passes the copy of _Mariposas_ he picked up in a little local place in Texas to a teenager in a motel with a sly wink because he believes in paying it forward. Like they’re in this together. “Lust, greed, gluttony – they are similar sins. Excess. To lust is to covet to the extent of utter selfishness. To find pleasure in someone’s body, without concern to whether you are reciprocating. Love can be selfish, but it is never totally so. To lust is to completely disregard any wants but your own.”

Jesus Christ. Dean hasn’t blushed this hard since he was 15 and Sam asked what the lady on the TV was taking her shirt off for. It’s not even dirty talk, but something about how matter of fact Castiel is, how he’s talking about _taking pleasure in someone’s body_ without the slightest waver in his intent eye contact, is just…something else. Dean clears his throat. “So, what, it’s only lust if you’re a bad lay?”

“On some level, yes.” Castiel’s expression doesn’t change, but Dean is starting to learn angel emotional cues, so he catches the way Cas’ voice goes just a bit softer when he says, “You have never done anything in your life that is not selfless, Dean. You are not damned.”

“Huh,” Dean says. Which isn’t what he wants to say. What Dean wants to say is _that’s a lie and you know it, you ass;_ he wants to ask how the hell all that porn he’s watched doesn’t count as lust; he wants Castiel to look at him like this, just like this, forever, like Dean is something monumental, like he’s the person in the room with the power, like he’s on the cusp of something grand and beautiful and how the way Cas is looking at him feels a bit like sinning, too. “Huh,” he says, instead of any of that, and lets the book he’s been fiddling with fall back to the table.

**Author's Note:**

> books referenced are stone butch blues by leslie feinberg and mariposas: an anthology of modern queer latino poetry by emanuel xavier; title comes from the piece "I Was An Ape in Utah (On Weekends)" from the anthology. rewatching spn several years and a lot of queer self-reflection later, the sheer degree to which dean winchester exudes bisexuality - and the fucking disgrace that the cw did to him - is astounding. i'll fix any issues with cas' characterization or timeline shenaniganry when i actually get to s4 again, i just wanted to post this while it was still fresh on the brain.
> 
> if you want to watch me yell abt dean winchester being a huge bisexual in real time, follow me on tumblr @pechebeche


End file.
